


Human Condition

by kimoi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:03:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimoi/pseuds/kimoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>one day i was at work and i was like 'dirk playing a game of grab-ass with some random stranger that turns out to be roxy would be pretty funny' and then it went downhill from there and this happened :T enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dirk was drunk. Jake had rejected him and he had decided against any form of better judgement to grab his bro's ID and head to the bar. It worked like a charm; and whether or not it was because they actually looked alike or if it was because no one dared question the name 'Strider' didn't matter. He was on his fifth tequila sunrise when he stood, shuffling drunkenly to find the bathroom. Shit, though - that was a choice ass. Whatever sense of decency or anything that might resemble a thought that could deny this a 'good decision' was currently locked behind a steel curtain of inebriation, and as he passed, he gave it a firm squeeze. The squeal of surprise pulled a lazy smirk to his face. Until Ms. Choice Ass turned around. What he was expecting was a slap to the face. What he wasn't expecting was -

  
"Roxy?"  
"Dirk! What th'shit man." But it wasn't an aggravated tone. It was surprised. "Why're you here? ...grabbing my ass?"  
He didn't know why he'd grabbed her ass other than the idea had seemed pretty great at the time.  
"Uh." Wow, an orator for the ages. "Jake said no." That wasn't what he'd wanted to say. Shit. Her expression softened, the blonde girl reaching out to grab his arm.  
"Oh fuck, Dirk... I'm sorry." She pulled him away from the crowd, off to one of the benches near the back. He let her. He suddenly very much didn't want to be alone here. He was drunk and upset. That was not a good combination no matter how he added it up. They sat on the bench and she faced him, her expression anxious.  
"Don' look like that, Rox, c'mon. I dun like it when you're upset."  
"Fuck off, Dirk. I'll look how I want. But wha' a'bout you? Wha'happen'd?" He didn't want to talk about it. But Roxy had this - fucking amazing power about her that just... He wanted to tell her everything.  
"It was underwhelmingly simple," he began, though his words slurred together. "I was all 'sup English' and he was his usual 'right-o' stuff, y'know? But then I - God. I'm so fuckin' stupid, Rox."  
"No, Dirk, you're - "  
"I am. I shoulda listened t'AR. I shoulda listened t'you. He said..." Wow, was he actually...? His eyes hurt, and he didn't know if it was from the booze or the fact he was trying not to cry. Strider's didn't cry. Come the fuck /on/, Dirk. Don't let Roxy see you like this. "He said... he would be with me b'cause it felt like an inenvitability." Big words were hard when you were drunk. "At first I felt so fuckin'... proud 'f that. Like English knew it was meant t'be or somethin'. Then I  thought about it. It actually had sounded like he wanted it. But then I asked him why he felt like that. I couldn't leave 'well enough' alone, Roxy. He said that... he felt like 'f he didn't say yes, I'd just keep at it. Never stop making passes at him. Like I'd fuckin' guilted him into it or somethin'. I'm not like that, Roxy... I'm not like that..." Maybe he was a little pushy. Maybe he was a little over the top. But he'd never...

  
He felt himself leaning forward, aiming to to rest elbows on knees, face in hands. But he missed and was going a lot faster than he knew, and Roxy was catching him before he fell face-first into the floor. Fuck. He was crying. Someone needed to make sure he never did something like this again. Drinking was awful. How did Roxy even...? She wrapped her arms around him, one hand stroking his hair and the other on his back.  
"I asked him... if I promised not to pursue it... if he'd still want to..." He took a deep breath, fingertips pressing into his eyelids. Stop. Fucking. Crying. "He s-said no..." Dirk's voice cracked and his head spun, a sob he couldn't control making him shake as she held him.  
"Dirk..." she murmured, hands gripping him tighter. Even in the dull roar of the bar crowd he could hear her; she was tucked up close to him, her mouth right by his ear. ...she was crying, too. No. No. She couldn't -- He pulled away from her, pulling off his shades to stare at her.  
"Roxy, fucking don't - ...stop crying. Wh-why are you even...?" It didn't fucking make sense. He was the heartbroken one, not her. She shook her head and tried to wipe the tears away, smudging her makeup instead.  
"I've n-never seen you like this... it's upsetting. I'm sorry. I just don't --" She stopped herself, shaking her head. Dirk frowned.  
"Don't what?" She shook her head more. "Don't WHAT?" Roxy jumped at the sudden volume of his tone, pulling her hands back and wringing them together.  
"D-don't know what to do. I... I feel so guilty, Dirk. I'm so sorry."  
"Why guilty? You didn't do anythin'." He felt a strange knot in his stomach in addition to the huge fucking web of utter crestfallenness that had wedged itself in his entire system due to... what had happened.  
"About how I feel." He watched her. She looked about as bad as he felt.  
"Be more vague, Lalonde." He sounded irritated but he wasn't. He was too... it was hard to explain.  
"I'm glad he said no, Dirk." If he hadn't been so close to her, he wouldn't have heard her. Maybe he shouldn't have. She was looking off to the side, looking mighty ashamed with herself. Still crying. Fuck. Had he made her cry? He didn't... like that.  
  
"Wh... why are you glad?" He was a bit insulted by that. Not insulted. Hurt. And not a bit. A lot.  
"Are you fucking daft, Dirk? It's because -I- have a thing for you. Jesus Christ. You're as thick as a bowling ball sometimes."  
  
Whoa. Okay. That was... unexpected.  
  
"You..."  
  
Maybe it wasn't that unexpected.  
  
"Have feelings..."  
  
After all, how often did she mention the two of them together?  
  
"For me?"  
  
Pretty often. For as many times as he'd gone on about Rainbow Dash or robots, she'd gone on about being with him or making babies for ten.  
  
"Hell-to-the-fucking-o, Strider. Why the shit do you think I devote as much of my time to you as I do? That's why I fucking feel guilty. I'm glad he said no because maybe that means I have a chance with you." She bit her lip, bringing a hand to her forehead. She looked like she was in pain. "Which is really, really fucking stupid of me. I shouldn't have said anything. Just forget it." She stood, grabbing her purse and making like she was going to leave. He grabbed her arm, standing with her. She couldn't do this to him. Not now. Not right now.  
  
"Roxy, don't-"  
"Let me go, Dirk." She sounded so upset...  
"You can't leave."  
"Watch me."  
"Roxy please..." She turned to face him. He wasn't faking that look of dejection. "I already lost Jake. I really fucking can't lose you too." She so badly looked like she wanted to slap him, throw some biting remark in his face and get the fuck out of here - but to his intense relief, she didn't. She turned back to face him, pouting like a princess denied a tenth pony, and sighed shakily.  
  
"I won't leave." Thank fuck. "But I really don't fucking know what else to say." He pulled her back to sit again.  
"Nothing? I don't fucking know. You can tell me more about how you feel. Shit, Rox - I'm a fucking idiot ten times over."  
"You're really not an idiot, Dirk. I wish you'd stop saying that."  
"But I'm so fucking serious, Roxy. How could I not realize that you felt this way? I mean you only say it with everything you have aside your goddamn mouth - but that too, sometimes, even - God, fuck-" He ran his hand through his hair again. "Do you get wasted all the fucking time to deal with it?" He couldn't explain the amount of disappointment and self-loathing he felt when she looked off to the side uncomfortably. "Roxy... please don't tell me..."  
"It's a hard thing to deal with, Dirk. It's hard and nobody fuckin' understands."  
"Fuck." He suddenly - well, not suddenly, because he'd felt pretty shitty for a majority of the evening - felt... even more terrible.  
"I never, ever minded... listening to you, Dirk. Whenever you had problems. Or even when you just wanted to bitch about your robots."  
"That's not the point, Rox."  
"But it sooooo is the point, you know? Like - yaaaa I drink because fuck errything you're all 'man dat Jake is a p cool guy' but I didn't... it was never your fault. I'm not mad at you or anything."  
"But you're upset. All the time. I mean, you're sauced nearly 24/7, for fuck's sake. And it's because of me." At least he'd stopped crying. That was obnoxious. But she still was. Even if she had that helpless little smile on her face, he knew she was in pain. She threw her hands in the air in exasperation.  
"So what, Dirk? You're here because you're so devastated by what happened with Jake. I'm here moppin' up the mess. And now my secret's out in the open. But it doesn't change a single fucking thing, does it? You're gonna gather your shit and walk outta here a cool fuckin' customer because heaven forbid anyone see you like this. And then what? We'll be back to square one, huh? Just dumb ol' Roxy Lalonde pining for something she can't have and never will. But hey, that's totes fine, huh? Cos dumb ol' Roxy Lalonde can put up her fuckin' bitchin' front of just-fine-ness too."  
"You're not dumb."  
"Really? I'd say wishing for something that's way outta your league is fuckin' dumb as hell." Now, just hold on a minute.  
"Out of your league?"  
"Well duh. I mean... you're so smart, Dirk. You're smart as fucking... whatever the fuck. And you're totes a fucking babe. I mean - " She snorted. " - And then there's me, drunk Lalonde, with 'er makeup always runnin' because she fuckin' cries all the damn time over stupid shit. I'm a fuckin' wreck, dude." Dirk reached over, putting his hand on her arm. She tried to shake it off, but his grip was firm.  
"You're the smartest girl I know, Rox. You're absolutely gorgeous, even when you're so blinded by your own tears that you can't see for shit. I know you, Roxy Lalonde. I know you're beautiful inside and out. And I know that..." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It was hard to admit to your own mistakes. "...if I wasn't so... stupid, and totally fucking ignorant of your feelings, you wouldn't HAVE to cry. You wouldn't HAVE to be drunk." She scooted closer to him, and he let her; resting his hand on her thigh. "I'm not out of your league." Why was he even thinking of these things? He had a thing for Jake. _And got rejected._ Roxy was always there for him though, wasn't she? _But she's not Jake._ That really, really didn't matter.  
"Yeah? Well what the shit good is knowing any of this going to do? I mean I'm def swoonin' over here with you sayin' all this nice stuff about me but... they're just pretty words, Dirk. Very, very pretty and flattering and nice words that I don't deserve."  
"Why don't you deserve them, Rox?"  
"Because I'm a huge fucking brat that's doing this to you."  
"Doing what?"  
"Being like... like this. Being all 'hey you're depressed 'bout your flushcrush turnin' you down but here have my fucking feelings on top of that too great cool awesome'."  
"I'm glad you told me." He had said it instantly without thinking, but he realized he was glad she told him. "It just really sucks."  
"Pff. Yeah, tell me about it."  
"No, I mean..." What did he mean? "Anything I say from this point... will just sound like I'm pitying you. Or trying to pick you up on the rebound. I don't wanna do that to you." She gave him an odd look.  
"You... wanna pick me up? I mean like... ...like that?" Shit. What was he even saying?  
"Fuck. I don't know. I've gotta see a man about a horse though, so excuse me for just a second."  
  
Dirk stood then, rubbing one of his eyes and swaying to the bathroom where he stood at a urinal, relieving himself. He had a lot to think about and only a few seconds to do it. What the fuck was going on with Roxy, out there? What was he saying, with those words about not wanting her to be a rebound? Something told him that she couldn't care less, that even being a rebound would give her the chance to feel something she'd been quite nearly dying to feel for a long time. But what would that mean for him? Jake was clearly out of the question. He couldn't do that to himself. Or to Jake. He couldn't make the kid be with him because he thought it was something that would happen regardless because of him being a pushy prick. But how could he let Roxy hurt herself if he felt like maybe he'd be tired of humouring her after however long they lasted? Maybe it'd be worth it, to give it a try - make himself feel a bit better, and let Rox burn herself out on the idea of him. Who the fuck knew? Maybe she'd realize he wasn't as great as she'd built him up to be and she'd want nothing romantic to do with him after a while. And if he felt like she was something he 100% wasn't interested in, he could let her go easy. He also had a sneaking suspicion that she'd unquestioningly let the two of them part ways without making a scene. He was too drunk to be thinking about this. Too drunk, but he wanted more. He finished up, washed his hands, and headed back out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel better, greg. <3

"Feelin' better?" Roxy mumbled from her bench. He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up. "Hey - what're you doing? Dirk -?" She didn't shake her arm free though, and he was glad for that. He kept tugging her gently, towards the exit.  
"Let's go to your place. Continue this party - and this conversation - there. Sound cool?" He knew she had tons more alcohol squirreled away at her house. She gave him an odd look, studying his face. She eventually nodded.  
"Yeah... Yeah, sure, that's cool. Oh, here." She handed him his glasses, which he slipped on.  
"Thanks. Am I calling a cab or are you?"  
"Cab? I've actually got one of my mom's limos chillin outside. I think the driver's bangin' some prostitute. He's probably finished though." It was her turn to tug Dirk along, leading them outside to, yup, a waiting limo. She knocked on the driver's side window a few times before he heard the click of locks being undone. He opened the door for her and she smiled at him, scooting into the vehicle and patting the seat next to her. He followed, and closed the door after him.  
"Where to?" The driver asked, the privacy window half-down. It smelled like cheap perfume.  
"Just home. Done partying for the night."  
"Very good." The window slid back up, and Roxy settled back against the seat, closing her eyes. She laughed a moment or two later. Dirk raised an eyebrow.  
"Something funny?" She shook her head, opening her eyes and watching the dimmed lights on the ceiling of the limo.  
"Never thought I'd be taking _you_ home, Dirk Strider." He smirked a bit.  
"Stranger things have happened."  
"I dunno. You're pretty strange. You get rejected by some crazy adventure-boy and then you come to me all puppy-eyed looking for more hooch. Not sure I can tell you anything more strange than that."  
  
She did have a point. This definitely wasn't how he imagined his evening going. In actuality, he had mostly figured he'd get wasted and wind up back at home without a single memory of how he'd gotten there. In fact that may have been the better option than going to drink more with someone that his feelings were foggy for. But like many times, he was willing to throw caution to the wind and see what became of this. If nothing else, it'd make for a great story.  
  
They arrived at her house and the sheer size of it never ceased to amaze him; being inhabited by two small women and being so big seemed hilariously unnecessary. He waited patiently for her to unlock the door, following her into the house and into the kitchen. Oh, wait, into the - massive - dining room. Letting out a low whistle as he swayed on his feet, he waited for her to pick the lock on the liquor cabinet, hands in his pockets.  
"What'll ya have, Dirky?"  
"Something strong. Preferrably horse tranqs if you've got them."  
"We could just do shots of tequila until you _think_ that's what I gave you." She smirked and it made him smirk too, in spite of everything. He shrugged off-handedly.  
"I'm game."  
  
Sitting on her couch, the TV on something obnoxious and ultimately inconsequential, the pair of them took turns taking shots of tequila - and vodka, and whatever else they could find really - at the most stupid prompts. Every time the host of the infomercial that was on made nervous eye contact with the camera - take a shot. Every time they said 'hurry' or an over-exaggerated 'wow', take a shot. Every time they flashed the 'as seen on TV' logo.... take a shot. They were smashed even further within the hour.

  
"Y'know, Rox... yer a good... good girl," he slurred at her, clinking his shotglass with hers and slamming it. He didn't pull a face this time, and he was too drunk to wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She gigglesnorted, and it was the cutest fucking thing in the entire world.  
"Ya? Good, eh? What'so good 'bout me, huh?" She had taken her shot and was reaching for another, but knocked the bottle over instead - good thing it was near empty. It brought up a tumult of laughter from the both of them, Roxy leaning over onto him so far they both landed sideways on the floor. His hand moved, resting on the side of her head, sifting fingers through her hair.  
"Takin' care 'f a wreck like me." To his surprise, she snorted again, sitting up a bit. Her hair was a bird's nest, her makeup was smeared. The outfit she'd worn to the club was rumpled and ill-fitting in the setting of her house. He didn't notice that she was straddling his legs, her hands planted on the ground on either side of him.  
"Dirrrrky Dirk. Yer a silly boy. Silly, silly, silly." She shook her head, crawling towards him. Dirk turned to be on his back, supporting himself on his elbows as he watched her through his shades. "'s hardly a chore, seein' as how I fuckin' adore you 'n all. I know iss' kinna hard t'tell with how I fuckin' swoon an' fawn all over you all th'time 'n errything." He noticed now, that she was straddling his hips; sitting and moving her hands to rest on his stomach. She sat down. She was warm...  
"'m not silly," he defended weakly. "'m fuckin'... ironic as hell, brolita." He dipped his chin towards his chest to look at her over his glasses, eyes narrowing so tight they nearly closed. "'n don't you f'rget it." Her hands were working their way up his sides... sliding over his ribs, over his chest... then spread out, not stopping until she had a hand around either of his wrists. This considerably compounded the distance between them, her face maybe a handful of inches away from his.  
"Y'know what I find _ironic_..." she murmured, her own lids lowered as she stared into the darkness of his shades.  
"'s'at, Princess?" he slurred, a smirk forming. But he was genuinely curious. Genuinely, drunkenly curious.   
"Hows'at y'end up at some dumpy bar, playina game'a grabass with some stranger cuz yer flushcrush said no t'you... Only t'be lured into her house an' in some... verrrrry compromisin' position with her, huh?" The frown he gave might have been a tiny bit over-exaggerated with how drunk he was.  
"I told ya, Rox. Yer not gonna be a rebound." His head was too loud, to full of drink for him to be ble to sort out what he wanted anyway.   
"I heard whatchu said." In a quick motion that he could barely catch, she had pulled his arms out from under him, causing his head to thunk back against the carpeted floor. She had his wrists pinned, looming over him. Her grin could only be described as 'wicked'. He liked it. "S'not a rebound 'f I'm th'one comin' on t'you, is it?"   
"Rox - " He wasn't going to argue. His tone - not to mention his smile - were that of a drunken, incredulous boy.  
"S'long as y'don't say no..." Even if he had any presence of mind to actually articulate something of a negatory in this state, Roxy probably wouldn't have obliged anyway. And once again, he was not of sound mind enough to decipher if that was a good thing or a bad thing.


	3. Chapter 3

Roxy hovered above him for a moment before she slid his hands further away from his head, her face much closer to his as a result. He felt her hips roll back a little and it made him smirk, nipping at the air between their mouths.  
  
"So we're doin' this, huh?" he asked with no small amount of drunken wonder in his voice. She shared his smirk.  
"S'like I said. Long as y'don't say no." She was an inch from his face. "Y'sayin' no?" Dirk shook his head furiously.  
"Nope. Nuh-uh. Not sayin' no. Can't say, won't say." He was... pretty goddamn drunk. She smiled at him, closing her eyes and pressing her mouth to his. Drunkenness made them both a little messy, but he didn't mind. Didn't seem she did either.  
  
"Good... 'cos I dun think I could stop if you had."  
"Thas' fine." A thought sparked through the haze of his mind, and he smirked, sluggishly flipping themselves over - flopping on top of Roxy clumsily. Roxy squealed, nearly hitting her head.  
"Jeeeezus Dirk, 's'at any way t'treat a lady?" she giggled, cooing up at him. "But... this seems better." He grabbed her wrists now, not unlike she had had his - staring into her eyes as he pinned them above her head.  
"I know... somethin' that'll.... feel even better." What was he even saying, at this point? Briefly, his thoughts fluttered to Jake - how he was rejected, how he was turned down because he was too stubborn, too proud, too unwilling to relent. Cripes, he didn't want to think of that right now. To distract himself, he leaned down and kissed her - finding much more leverage in their positions now than he did before. She responded beautifully, her back arching in just the right way against him. He relished the taste of their mouths, the faint tastes of liquor mixing together on their tongues. He pulled back, licking at her lips.  
  
It hadn't lasted long but that didn't make it any less wonderful - especially not with the way Roxy had turned the tables at the last minute and ended up riding him the way she did. She hadn't taken off her skirt but the leggings had gone, and something about her still being mostly clothed while he fucked her just made it that much more amazing. Her hands had gripped into his shirt - well, one of them had, the other was either ran through her own hair and gripping it to ground herself, or she was biting her knuckle - and once or twice she'd even scratched him. God, it'd felt great. And sounded great, too. She was just the right amount of vocal to be a huge turn-on, little gasps and cries and infrequent squeals were... actually pretty fucking endearing. And, much to his surprise, he didn't feel any sort-of negativity about it. He'd enjoyed himself, it felt great, and his emotions thus far were pretty stable. She'd laid against him for a bit, her head in the crook of his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing evenly. She had a smile on her face. He stroked through her hair, his head still spinning gently from the alcohol, watching the ceiling and listening to the infomercials that were still playing. It had to have been nearly 2 am. About ten minutes after this realization, Roxy picked her head up.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.  
"Wow, and here I thought you were some sort-of romantic, Rox." She playfully thunked her fist against his chest.  
"I'm being serious." He knew she was. He could see it in her eyes.  
"I'm okay." As soon as he said it he knew he was. The sting of losing Jake was still a dull pain in his chest, but he realized that as much as he may have pined for English Roxy pined for him, and he felt that denying her and her feelings for so long, in light of the circumstances, was... just a dick move. "You're a really special girl, Rox." He ran his fingers through her hair. She sat up a little more, her weight held up by the arm that hadn't been draped over his chest. She was thinking about something.  
  
"This... doesn't have to mean anything, if you don't want it to." Oh, there was another pang of that guilt that thrummed through him, watching her sit like that and regret everything that had just happened. He sat up too, putting a hand on her bicep.  
"It means everything. And I'm perfectly fine with that." Careful consideration went into his next words. "And I'd... be more than okay with this happening again. You wouldn't even have to get me drunk first." How bad could things be with Roxy Lalonde? She was a wreck, but that was really his own fault. Dirk reached, curling a strand of her hair behind her ear.  
"Really?" She fidgeted a little. "So does that mean... you'd wanna... be a thing, or something?"  
"I wouldn't be opposed to giving it a go." Really, what did he have to lose? "I never once ruled you out of my love life, Rox. I guess I kinda just had my eyes on a different prize. Which is why I felt guilty for doing this with you. I don't want you to think you're just the runner-up." He sighed, sitting back a bit, against the couch. "Because you aren't. I didn't want to commit to something and then end up hurting you because Jake might have decided to make the first move. Which was, in retrospect, really stupid of me to expect. I shouldn't have ignored you for so long, Roxy. I'm sorry."  
"Dirk Strider apologizes to drunken blonde. More at 11." She slid closer and reached out, fingertips touching his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact. "I didn't want to complicate things. You've got a tough time as it is."  
"But you've probably drank enough booze to fill 13 liquor stores by now. Do you know how unhealthy that is?"  
"If you even understood... how much it hurt to watch all my friends be in love with one another, and then have the audacity to come to me for relationship advice... you'd drink 13 liquor stores dry, too." He felt another guilty pang, pulling Roxy to his chest in a comforting hug. "It didn't matter how unhealthy it was," she continued as he stroked her hair, "it helped the pain go away. That's all I wanted. I just didn't want to hurt anymore."  
"Well... I don't think you have to anymore? I'm gonna save the overtired task of making a show of it, but if you wanna try and be a thing together, Rox, I'm willing to do it for you. And myself. I can't mope around like this."  
"I can't promise you I'll stop drinking, you know." He felt and heard her sigh. "Old habits fuckin'... die hard and all that." She pulled away from him, but her look was grateful. She smiled weakly. "Want somethin' to eat? Or do you just wanna shuffle up to my bedroom with me? Big bed gets awful lonely." He returned the smile, rolling his eyes a little and standing unsteadily. But he helped her up, and rubbed her back a bit.  
  
"Can't say I'd say no to somethin' to chow on." Her hand found his and she tugged him into the kitchen, sitting him at the table while she began the hunt for edibles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaa god this is such crap lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has a very weak ending and i'm sorry for that :B i may or may not add more, but this was really just some stupid idea i had at work that i thought was hilarious and needed to be written. oh well, enjoy!

He'd helped her clean up and assisted her with the stairs to her room. Sitting next to her on the edge of her bed, he listened to her sleep. He was tired but not tired enough to sleep just yet, opting to instead rub his hand on her back in a calming way. Dirk wasn't quite sure if it was more for her benefit, or his own.  
  
He'd started the evening lamenting the fact the kid he'd had a crush on for the past however long had outright rejected him for reasons that - while he could understand - seemed a little unfair. He stared at her closed door in the dark, brows knitted. His head was still swimming gently from the alcohol, but he was mostly cognizant - he'd probably drink some water or something before he actually went to sleep.  
  
"Rox." No response. "Roxy." She mumbled something sleepily at him. He wasn't having second thoughts. He promised himself this. And it was true. He just wanted to talk about it a little. She was more in-tune to things than anyone ever gave her credit for. When she still didn't awaken, he tried a different tactic. Laid down on the bed next to her, face level with hers. Her tired exhales smelled faintly of their midnight snack and the gin she'd been so enamoured with. His eyes, adjusted to the dark of the room, saw hers open to slivers.  
  
"Th'fuck d'you want, Dirk?" she murmured, but the words lacked any sort-of hostility one might gather from their content. He lifted his hand a little higher, resting it on the back of her head. Roxy closed her eyes again, but he could tell from her deep sigh that she was awake enough to talk.  
  
"I mean this in the least threatening way possible. Can we talk? Don't be alarmed." Hoping to high hell she didn't take that to mean he was regretting anything, his relief formed itself into a sigh of his own when she yawned, nodding a bit. "You don't even have to get up or anything. I just want to talk about stuff."  
"About Jakey." He had stiffened slightly before he could stop it, but he mumbled a 'yeah' as coolly as he could manage. "Don't be mad at him, Dirk. He's jus' a dumb jungle boy. And t'be honest I'd be pretty mad at him if he had said yes." That... confused him a little.  
"Why?" Well, duh. "I mean aside the obvious fact that you've been after me for years." Aside that, what on earth could Roxy need to be upset at him for? She turned to lay on her side, scooting closer to him and draping her arm over him sleepily. She nuzzled his chest and he held her.  
  
"'f stupid Jake English caught y'in his dumb web of webbiness just b'cause he thought it'd be inevitable? Y'deserve better than that. Like... a million times better." She paused. "Dunno how much better I am but... you'd want someone that actually loved you."  
"Like you do, right?" He winced after he'd said it; the tone of his voice left a lot of room for her to cry 'sarcasm'. "I mean that as a legitimate question. I'd want someone that loves me like you do." Because in spite of everything, the love from Roxy Lalonde was 100% unconditional. Even his interest in Jake hadn't stopped her from feeling the way she did. "...because if I told you how much it meant to me that you do, I'd have to kill you." She giggled sleepily at that, and he kissed her forehead before settling more against her like that.  
  
"We're already a thing Dirk Strider, y'can't backpedal now." She was right, he had said something to that effect. "I'll find some way t'un-fuck you and put you right back in that stupid bar." She paused, and he felt her nose scrunch a little. "Nah. I'd jus' fill you full of booze an' then not tell y'what happened after y'woke up with yer hangover."  
"You're the devil, Roxy."  
"Y'don't fuck with a girl like me. Unless y'mean it."  
"I do mean it." And he did. He didn't regret it, he didn't want to un-ask her out. He was overall even pretty satisfied with the 'talk' they'd had about Jake. It made a lot of sense to him and he was actually pretty touched Roxy felt that way. He wasn't surprised, but hearing it was a nice reminder. In the silence, he felt her shaking - concern immediately sprang to him until he heard her soft giggles. "What's so funny?"  
"I jus thought... what'f this's some dumb dream. Like I totes f'reals drank too much this time an' I'm..." To cut her off, he reached down - pinching her ass again. "Ow-! Dirk!"  
"Feel like a dream to you?" She was looking up at him, and he down at her, smirking. The  hand that had done the pinching was now resting open-palmed on her rear, fingers behaving themselves. His tone dropped to serious. "Isn't that what you do when you think you're dreaming?" Roxy kissed him once, sweetly, before nestling back against him again. She sighed, and closed her eyes again.  
  
"Even 'f it was a dream... s'the best fuckin' dream I've ever had."  
  
He couldn't agree more.


End file.
